


Couch Cuddles

by TigerOfTheTundra



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh the Abridged Series, Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Fluff, One Shot, Possibly OOC?, Thiefshipping, but it's adorable, very definitely thiefshipping, very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 01:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14438703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerOfTheTundra/pseuds/TigerOfTheTundra
Summary: Late nights watching TV can get boring, but that's just because you haven't found the right channel!!





	Couch Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissTooni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTooni/gifts).



> Inspired my my friend's art, I wrote a silly one shot to go with it ^^ I'm putting her picture in a link here, please got see it and like it and love her art, it's wonderful and adorable. The fic itself is mostly goofy and fun, so keep reading if you're here for goofy fun times. Not sure if it's fully just anime inspired, or abridged inspired? Probably mostly roommate inspired, tbh
> 
> http://misstooni.tumblr.com/post/169911775907/couch-cuddles  
> (seriously go look at this cuteness)

“Aww, Bakura, don’t be like that.” Marik stuck out his lip in an exaggerated pout, complete with the wounded eyes of a practiced pouter. Bakura ignored him. “Bakuraaaaaaaa,” Marik whined.

“I’m not spending the entire night watching you flip channels because you keep getting bored,” Bakura said, moving the remote minutely further from reach. “So we’re watching this or nothing.” He waved at the…. jewelry infomercial, of all things. But if he had to listen to another hour of half-words and broken plot lines, so help him–

“Ugh, Bakura, you’re the worst.” Marik flopped dramatically across the couch, but not before Bakura lifted the remote out of reach. He chuckled as Marik strained for it. His partner quickly gave up, instead sitting up and folding his arms with a wrinkle-nosed ‘hmmmph’.

“You always try that, you know.” Bakura grinned, triumphant, but this did mean they were stuck watching fake pearls and sapphires on spinning pedestals with too much lens flair. Well, victory was victory. Only Marik still pouted in his direction, and it was really–wait, what was he wearing?

“Marik are those my boxers??” he exclaimed.

“You said to put pants on,” Marik returned, “so I did.” He stuck out his tongue.

“You put my pants on!!” Bakura turned away, careful to keep the remote out of reach. “And don’t make that face.”

“What face?” When Bakura refused to elaborate, Marik just 'hmmphed’ again and slumped deeper into the couch. The silence stretched as they listened to the bland descriptions of overdone necklaces or something. Honestly Bakura want even paying attention to the television anymore. What the bloody hell did Marik think he was doing, wearing /his/ boxers.

The couch cushions bent. Bakura let his eyes slide sideways; Marik was just shooting closer for the remote. He sidled up right next to Bakura, to the point where their legs nearly touched. Bakura kept his hand protectively primed over the remote as he waited for Marik to make a move.

Only Marik just leaned over and curled against his side. “You put up with a lot,” he said.

“W-what??” he sputtered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading over his face.

“I know I’m annoying,” Marik continued, “and impatient and always eat all the marshmallows out of the cereal.” Bakura rolled his eyes; he knew Marik did /that/. “And you don’t have to put up with me like my siblings do.” Marik’s face sat completely hidden against Bakura’s arm now.

“What are you getting at?” Bakura didn’t mean that to come out as harsh as it did. But his partner sat so still, so quiet. Unnervingly quiet. The drone of the commercial narrator did nothing to break the tension as it settled deeper into his bones. Marik was just bluffing to get the remote, wasn’t he? Wasn’t he? “Marik,” he hissed, barely twitching to nudge him. Marik looked up, studying him with such intensity Bakura felt like his face would burst into flames and drain of all blood in seconds. “What?” he snapped.

“Why do you put up with me?” His violet eyes narrowed, crinkling the careful dark makeup at his eyelids. Bakura sputtered silently, beside himself with incredulous offense, until Marik’s face split into a grin. “You liiiiiiiike me, don’t you,” he sang.

“Marik we’ve been dating for over a year!!” Bakura exploded, but his partner was already snickering uncontrollably into his arm, and how could he be annoyed about that? He just grunted in exaggerated frustration and slumped back. The remote jammed into the lower exposed tissue of his side, and he moved it away. Marik still continued his giggling tirade, no sign of slowing–Bakura was about to shove him away–until he sat up, eyes still sparkling.

“……… what are…?” Bakura almost wanted to lean away from his partner’s shining face. The mood had switched so many times in the last few minutes he felt dizzy.

“Really, Bakura, thank you.” Marik wrapped his arm around Bakura’s shoulders and leaned over, resting his lips against the other’s forehead. Bakura’s breath hitched.

“You don’t….” He closed his eyes against the warmth of the touch. “Marik,” he sighed.

“I mean it.” He could feel the shape of Marik’s mouth through his bangs. The gentle pressure of his kiss. The delicate hush of just being here, together in this–

And the TV clicked with the telltale 'bzzt’ of the channel changing.

“Marik,” Bakura said over the sound of the science fiction space battle.

“Yes?” Marik replied, voice rising above even his usual pseudo-innocent saccharine.

“You wouldn’t have said all of that just to get to the remote, would you?” Each word came out in a sharp bite. He could feel the growing grin on Marik’s face, where his lips still rested warm against Bakura’s forehead.

“Aren’t you the one who said the best lie is an actually true one?” Damn him, Bakura had said that, but to have it thrown against him–He growled under his breath. “And isn’t this waaaaaaay better than whatever we were watching?”

“I don’t bloody care,” Bakura snapped; he hadn’t even seen what they now watched. Some sort of…. spaceship deck, with people in outdated metallic clothes, fog machine smoke: truly quality science fiction, he thought dryly.

“What, were you planning on buying a bracelet or something?” Marik needled, as he curled in close, eyes now glued on the TV. “Trying to track jewellry prices?”

“What, do you want to go back and watch that?” Bakura lifted the remote. “If you’re so invested in that jewelery commercial–”

“No don’t make me watch that! Anything but that!” Marik made a desperate grab for it, but Bakura, anticipating, dodged, and his partner ended up sprawled in an ungainly heap. Bakura burst out laughing at his partner’s face. But he didn’t change the channel, and when Marik started getting bored and twitchy with the shoddy space movie, Bakura let him change the channel.


End file.
